


Hate is the most subtle kind of rape

by Kairin16



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, M/M, Post Beach, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-04
Updated: 2011-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-26 21:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairin16/pseuds/Kairin16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles makes Erik masturbate with his telepathy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hate is the most subtle kind of rape

Erik is sitting against the headboard as naked as mother nature made him. His legs are splayed wide and he keeps his feet firmly fixed on the bed, in case he needed any additional leverage. His hands are resting at his sides, but it's only temporary state, soon they will have a very important task. Everytime Charles begins to have any doubts, he reminds himself that Erik allowed him that. More so, he insisted on it, ignoring Charles' initial protest. He lifts his hand to his temple and let the show begin.

Erik's mind is whirlwind of wild emotions and feelings, but Charles doesn't detect any fear so he plunges deeper until he can prompt man's limbs to move as he wants them and feel what Erik feels without any hardship. He establish the connection and goes back to his own body, opening his eyes to the sight of Erik. He wants to be allowed to always see this when he opens his lids.

Erik has beautiful hands. All long-fingers and delicate palms, as if belonging to some pianist or other artist. Charles knows though that on the underside, they are full of rough calluses, testament to the life Erik was forced to live before they met. He makes one of these gorgeous hands trail over the sculpted chest. All in all, Erik is built like a statue of some Greek hero or even a god and for a moment Charles' in awe at the sheer fact that he's allowed even a glance at him, spread like that.

Erik's fingers trail the feather light touches over his already half-hard shaft, testing the texture. It's soft, like no other part of the man and Charles can't help the moan that escapes him. The other hand, as in the counterpart, rakes nails roughly over one of the nipples and Erik hisses arching his neck. Charles longs to kiss it so he sends the phantom impression of lips on skin. It's not the same, but it'll have to do for now. Erik sighs lightly and looks at him from under these ridiculously long lashes as if to challenge him to continue. He doesn't have to ask.

The fingers on the shaft tighten around it without extending any real pressure. He can feel the breath stopping for a while in Erik's throat and starts moving the hand slowly up and down. The other hand suddenly pinches one of the hardened nubs and Erik moans obscenely. Charles wants to swallow the sounds right from his mouth... No, thoughts like that are not going to bring any good right now. He has to focus.

His short break in focus allows Erik to tighten the grip to the more satisfactory level and move his second hand down to touch lightly his spectrum. Both of them moans now, Charles' feeling all the sensations as if they were his own and he grips the arms of his chair as he struggles to regain control. He slows down the rhythm again and Erik whines low in his throat.

\- Charles... - he says and his voice is delightfully breathy, rough with desire – Please...

Charles allows him that and on the next upward stroke, thumbs the slit carefully, making sure that all Erik feels is pleasure and not even a shadow of pain. He has to groan himself for how good it feels so he does it one more time. The second hand is busy playing with the man's balls, stroking them lightly and tickling. He moves it slowly down and pushes the forefinger past the tight ring of muscles of Erik's opening, making a complicated turn of the wrist with the second hand that he learnt on his second year in Oxford.

Erik comes with a throaty groan and the flood of white hot sensation that is mainly pleasure and something warmer, something directed at Charles that he doesn't really want to examine now or ever again. And Charles is right there with him, experiencing everything as if it was his own.

When the high of the orgasm fades he releases Erik from the hold he keeps on his mind and thanks him verbally. The man stands up and puts on the robe laying next to the bed. He makes a move as to approach Charles, but aborts the motion and with a nod exits the room. Now that all the pleasure is gone with Erik and only memory of it remains, Charles looks down with an unseeing eyes at his legs that will never move again and hates this man more than he has ever hated anyone in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry?


End file.
